


Overruled

by travels_in_time



Category: NCIS
Genre: Comment Fic, Gibbs' Rules, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6704911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travels_in_time/pseuds/travels_in_time
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is on his way out.  Gibbs has a few reminders for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overruled

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of "Tony-leaving-NCIS" fic that we'll never get on screen. :) Comment fic, written for the prompt "Any, Any, A proposal in any unlikely place/situation." Well, it didn't specify a _marriage_ proposal...Also, 13 seasons of canon is hard to keep up with. If Tony already knows Rule 51, I apologize.

"DiNozzo! You don't work for NCIS anymore."

Tony looked over at Gibbs, who was coming around the corner at full speed as usual. "I do know that, Gibbs," he replied, careful to keep the hurt out of his voice. He turned back to the rest of the team, taking refuge in sarcasm. "What, am I not leaving fast enough for him? Maybe somebody should call security, have me escorted from the building--"

He pivoted sharply on one foot, spinning around to catch Gibbs' upraised hand. "No." Quite suddenly, he'd had enough. "If I'm not your agent, then you don't get to do that anymore."

He held Gibbs' wrist for a few seconds. Surprisingly, it was Gibbs who backed down first, acknowledging the point to Tony with a lift of his eyebrow and a nod of a quarter of an inch. Tony, aware of the frozen stares of the rest of the team, dropped his hand and took a deep breath, regaining his composure.

"Just reminding you that the rules don't apply to you anymore."

Gibbs sounded almost…conciliatory? Tony stared at him. "What, all fifty of them? But what will I do without that kind of structure and discipline in my life?"

"Fifty-one," Gibbs corrected.

"Fifty-one?" Tony tried to hide his dismay as the realization hit that Gibbs would keep making new rules, and now, he'd never know them. "What's Rule Fifty-one?"

"Not your concern anymore."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Right, doesn't apply to me." He picked up his bag and gave a little wave at the members of the team who'd assembled to see him off. "Bye, guys. See you on the flip side."

"Know what other rule doesn't apply to you anymore, DiNozzo?"

Tony turned back in exasperation. "Well, according to you, all of 'em. Although I might keep a few handy, seeing as how they, you know, saved my life a time or two. But please do tell me, Boss--Gibbs--which one is it that you apparently think I've been lying in wait to break as soon as the door smacks my butt on the way out?"

"Rule Twelve."

Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't that. He barked out a harsh laugh. "Not a problem. I've been here long enough that everybody knows me. They're not exactly lining up."

Gibbs frowned at him. "Better not be a line."

He took another look at his ex-boss, noting the body language, the way Gibbs was all in his personal space, the way he'd squared up defensively when he'd spoken that last line. As if he were…marking territory. As if Tony were _his_.

His mouth was dry. He looked at the others helplessly. "This is a joke, right? One last prank for the road? Real funny, guys." They were still frozen, all except Abby, who was grinning from ear to ear, but all that meant was that this was Gibbs' own private joke.

Gibbs was suddenly even closer to him. "This seem funny to you, DiNozzo?" he growled.

Tony didn't usually emphasize the height difference between them, but he needed all the help he could get right now. He held himself straight and looked down, although he had to force the quiet words out through the lump in his throat. "No. It seems pretty damn cruel to me."

Was that… _regret_ in Gibbs' eyes? Tony held himself still through force of will as Gibbs leaned forward and spoke into his ear. "Not losing you now. Not after all this time." His hand came up again, and this time Tony didn't stop him, couldn't move, frozen as Gibbs ruffled the hair on the back of his head in what seemed like...surely couldn't be...affection.

"1900 hours, my place. I'll cook, we'll talk." Gibbs stepped back, his voice returning to normal. "That's an invitation. Not an order."

"Talk?" Tony still couldn't move, but his mouth, as usual, worked just fine without input from his brain. "Not an order? Who are you, and what have you done with Gibbs?"

Gibbs quirked a tiny grin at him. "Not your boss anymore, Tony." He turned away then, picking up the coffee cup on his desk. "Autopsy," he told the rest of the team, and headed for the elevator.

Tony stared after him. "What just happened here?" he asked plaintively. He turned to the others. "You all saw that, right? I don't have another concussion or anything?"

"Well, that was adorable," Bishop said to no one in particular. Her brow furrowed. "Also a little bit terrifying."

McGee's features had lit up in understanding, as if he'd just solved some particularly tough computer problem. "I think Gibbs just staked a claim."

Abby giggled, linking her arm through Tony's. "About time, too!" She pulled him toward the elevator. "Come on, Tony. We've got to get back to work, and you've got to…go do…Tony things. Whatever it is you do when you're not here. And get ready for your date tonight."

"It's not a date," he argued.

"We'll need details!" Bishop called after him.

He looked over his shoulder. "It can't be a date." Why was this not sinking in? "It's _Gibbs_."

McGee's face went slightly paler. "You're right, it's Gibbs. He'd kill us." He met Bishop's eyes, read agreement there. "No details."

The door to the elevator opened, and Abby released Tony. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before she pushed him in. "Tony. Go be happy."

The doors closed, and Tony was alone, struggling to get his racing thoughts under some kind of control. Gibbs couldn't mean…but he'd said…what had he said, anyway? Nothing he couldn't back down from, claim that Tony had misunderstood. But he'd said they'd talk, and Tony was pretty sure that that was Gibbs-speak for…something really important.

Tony's hand went unconsciously to the back of his head, smoothing down his hair. He'd be there tonight. He might not know what was going on, but if there was any chance at all, he didn't want to miss out. And there was one thing he did know for certain. "I am NOT dyeing my hair red," he announced to the empty elevator, and then he was ready to stride out and face the rest of the day.


End file.
